


"Just a trim, please."

by ursibae



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, F/F, F/M, M/M, Points to me for trying?, Soulmate AU, VictUuri, Yoi - Freeform, dorks tbh, hairdresser Yuuri, hairdresser au, seungchuchu - Freeform, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 15:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10722306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ursibae/pseuds/ursibae
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is a young hairdresser, waiting patiently for his soulmate.Patiently being the operative word, of course.But is his soulmate all he expected, or more?





	"Just a trim, please."

**Author's Note:**

> My first YOI fic aaaa--
> 
> Okay so I went with the idea of a soulmate AU. I know there are so many different ones so I'll explain the one I have used.
> 
> Basically, everyone is born with a soulmate. You are born with the first words that your soulmate will say to you, in the handwriting that they will have when you meet (as handwriting develops as you grow). As well as this, you can also communicate with your soulmate via writing on your skin, and those words will appear on the same place on the skin of your soulmate, exactly as they were written on the writer's hand.
> 
> I hope it isn't too confusing!
> 
> (Also no idea when this will be updated)
> 
> *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Viktor Nikiforov had always grown up with the idea that he and his soulmate would meet young, marry, have children (or adopt - he wasn't fussed, as long as he and his soulmate were happy), and die old and happy. Okay, maybe he was thinking a little far into the future, but this is Viktor - you can't blame him.

Nights were always spent alone, staring at the nine words on his wrist. He liked the handwriting that they were in - the sweet, gentle cursive of his soulmate. However, he didn't favour the emptiness beside him in his double bed. When he'd gotten his own house he'd also gotten a bit carried away, already planning how many bedrooms he and his soulmate would need when they finally met. He had a decently large house and so he just assumed that they'd live there.

Rolling onto his front, Viktor retrieved a pen from its nest on the bedside table. He wrote a small 'good night' onto the back of his hand (with a few kisses neighbouring it) doodling a little heart above the 'i'. A fond smile pushed at his cheeks, a gentle pink dust sprinkling over the faint dimples that formed, masking the soft splatter of speckles on his fair skin.

The reply was similar, minus the minor adjustment to the 'i'. It made Viktor smile anyway.

He turned his hand over to read the words on his wrist: 'of course, sir, I'll just brush your hair'. He often wondered what kind of person would say that to him (admittedly, he was a little dense). The words shaded slightly when his fringe fell in front of his azure eyes. Viktor tried to blow it away but it stubbornly remained; the soft huff that followed parted the silver strands.

He sighed again, gentler, and rolled onto his front to get some sleep. As soon as his rosy cheek hit the silky pillow, he was in Dreamland.

\-------

"You found your soulmate?!"

Phichit laughed softly at his friend's exclamation. It was lucky that they were on a break - otherwise Yuuri probably would have snipped somebody's ear off. That wouldn't have been good for anybody, considering that the pair owned the business and couldn't afford to get sued.

"Yes, Yuuri," he confirmed through a few chuckles. "I was so busy with work and helping mother at home, that I hardly even noticed when we bumped into each other. He had a pen in his hand and he was writing on the other, and the exact same words were appearing on mine," he hummed and scratched lightly at his dark cheek - a habit stemming from his shyness. "I might have dropped all my bags..."

"And then what?" Yuuri pressed, a grin starting to part his lips and uncover his teeth.

"And then he said, 'oh, I'm so sorry, let me help you with that'," Phichit explained. "And I thought those words were familiar, because those have been the words I've been waking up to on my wrist every single morning. I said, 'oh my God', and he blinked and showed me his wrist too, and those words were on his skin!"

Yuuri cooed delightfully, his palms clasping together and his fingers interlocking. "That's so amazing," he fawned, maroon eyes sparkling like darkened stars. "What's he like? Is he cute? Or more hot? Is he taller than you? Is he-"

The ringing of the bell interrupted the young Japanese male. Yuuri glanced towards the door as a tall, handsome man entered (it didn't even look like he needed a damn haircut, why was he bothering spending money on it?).

"Good morning, sir!" Phichit greeted him cheerily, waving lightly. He'd continue the conversation with Yuuri later on. Work was important - they both knew that - and they had a customer.

Yuuri scuttled off to get the equipment ready, Phichit's little romantic story having put him in a good mood. He'd always hoped something like that would happen to him. He'd waited so long (twenty-two years, to be exact) for his soulmate to come into his basic everyday life, and greet him with the words he saw everyday, so that he'd finally have somebody special to see everyday.

He let the conversation to the left of himself drone out as he readied the padded chair, picking up the cloth that cloaked the back of it. He offered a smile to the customer as he sauntered to the chair, seating himself. Yuuri offered a smile to the taller man, opening his mouth to automatically ask what he would like, but the customer beat him to it.

"Just a trim, please," the man smiled, settling back in the chair.

Yuuri blinked, pausing for a moment. His momentary surprise was replaced by a friendly smile.

"Of course, sir, I'll just brush your hair."

He was usually the one to speak first, so he'd been a little taken aback.

Yuuri considered himself a decent hairdresser. He'd never had any complaints, even if his constant anxiety of slicing an ear lobe constantly ate away at his stomach like a black hole. He had always wanted a job that he could enjoy, and although he wasn't keen on washing near-century-old hair for the first few months of his employment, working with Phichit (who had been his college roommate) had made the time tolerable.

After a few months he had been able to get a promotion, and he was given the job of actually cutting hair. Honestly he was just pleased that his training had been put to good use, rather than just scrubbing at the malting scalps of the elderly. That hadn't exactly been a highlight of his job, although he had been bordering-on-desperate for money and jobs these days were difficult to find; he had been more than grateful for a part-time vacancy at the salon.

Yuuri gave the customer the trim, the tip of his tongue poking out between his tender lips in concentration, eyebrows creased lightly. He worked with ease, used to cutting hair by this point. Soon enough, the job was done.

Holding some money out, the customer stood from his chair, but not before Yuuri swept the dead stray hairs from his broad shoulders.

"There you go, sir," Yuuri offered a customary beam, straightening himself up.

The silver-haired stranger pushed the strands aside from his defined left brow and returned the smile. "Thank you very much." He hummed, rolling up the long sleeves of his crisp dress shirt, since he felt a little warm.

Yuuri hummed and waved a hand. "It's no problem, really," he insisted. "Have a nice day!"

Nodding, the customer made his way to the door. "You too!" He waved, retrieving a pen from his pocket as he left. He exited the salon and began to write on his hand. Yuuri could only just see him write a scrawled 'hello xx'.

The barber smiled at the thought that that customer would write to his soulmate as soon as he wasn't busy. It was cute, really, and he kind of hoped that his soulmate would do that sort of thing for him. The thought of his soulmate, their image blurred in his mind with the lack of knowledge about them, rushing out of their office (he totally had not spent a long time thinking about this), pen in hand and scribbling a scrawled hello with a couple of kisses - his soulmate's hand writing had always been a little messy.

The positive thoughts were disrupted by a gentle sting on his slightly calloused palm. Yuuri moved his gaze from the departing stranger outside of the door, turning his attention to his hand to read the message:

'hello xx'.


End file.
